After this he went down to the boat. The Abbot would much rather have taken a quantity of pepper for his breakfast, than have had that fact called up to his mind. "A happy journey!" he called out after his departing guest. From that time, Ekkehard had drawn down on himself the enmity of the monks at Reichenau. This however he little heeded; and was rowed down the lake, by the same boat-man of Ermatingen. Dreamily he gazed about from his boat. Over the lake, transparent white mists were floating, through which the little belfry of Egina's cloister, Niederzell, peeped out on the left, while on the other side, the island stretched out its farthest points. A large stone-built castle could be seen through the willow-bushes, but Ekkehard's eyes were riveted on a more distant point. Proud and grand, in steep, bold outlines a rocky mountain-peak rose above the hills on the shore, like to a mighty spirit, which, ponderous and pregnant with action, towers over the insignificant objects around. The morning sun was casting faint gleams of light on the rocky edges and steep walls. A little to the right, several lower hills of the same shape, stood modestly there, like sentinels of the mighty one. "The Hohentwiel," said the boat-man to Ekkehard. The latter had never before beheld the place of his destination, but he did not need the boatman's information. Inwardly thinking, "thus must the mountain be, which she has chosen for her residence." A deep, earnest expression overspread his features. Mountain-ranges, extensive plains, water and sky, in fact all that is grand and beautiful in nature always produces seriousness. Only the actions of men, sometimes bring a smile to the lips of the looker on. He was thinking of the apostle John, who had gone to the rocky isle of Patmos, and who had there met with a revelation. The boat-man rowed steadily onwards; and they had already come to the projecting neck of land, on which Radolfszell and a few scattered houses were situated, when they suddenly came in view of a strange little canoe. It was simply made of the rough, hollow trunk of a tree; roofed over and quite covered up with green boughs and water-rushes, so that the rower inside was invisible. The wind drifted it towards a thick plantation of water reeds and bulrushes near the shore. Ekkehard ordered his ferry-man to stop this curious little boat, and in obedience he pushed his oar into the green covering. "Ill luck befall you!" called out a deep bass voice from the inside, "_oleum et operam perdidi_, all my labour lost!--Wild geese and water-ducks are gone to the Devil!" A covey of water-fowl, which hoarsely shrieking rose up from the rushes, corroborated the truth of this exclamation.